Waking Up Poor
Can you even imagine the way that you’ll feel
If you wake up one morning in poverty’s bed?
There are folks that this happens to every day
And they’re suddenly on the street, coveting bread.
Many only feel safe by themselves when they sleep,
There’s just vague sense of what might be next, what to do,
But they know winter’s coming, for night carries chill,
Closest peers have all vanished now, (poor’s point of view).
I can hear you protesting, “Won’t happen to me!”
But for death’s date, your future’s as clear as night sky,
Though the stars may have answers, they’re silent as grave.
The main twist in this poem! Impoverished die!
If you’d prosper in life, have diversified friends,
Though some money might help, on your own, journey’s bleak.
Helping hand to the young is like step ladder’s rung
For the youth that endures is not blush in your cheek.
In the end, you can't know though, just who’ll stand their ground,
Maybe no guarantees, but the wise still prepared.
Best remember this, nobody gets out alive,
I think "proof of the pudding" will be that you shared!
Long Tooth
April 29, 2017
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